


Lovely Lady May

by crisuzu



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, F/F, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lumberjack AU, Mental Health Issues, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Single Mom AU, Yearning, friends to enemies to idiots to lovers, slight cottagecore vibes, sorta construction au?, this is... a lot lol, will be warnings in the notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisuzu/pseuds/crisuzu
Summary: A quiet, “Hey, Adora.” A short pause, “It’s been... awhile.”or alternatively, ten years down the line and a chance meeting has Adora falling faster than a hickory tree.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra & Entrapta & Scorpia (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Been a really long time since I've written anything so please bare with me :)  
> Please let me know what y'all think and enjoy!  
> All mistakes are my own.

A deep breath, a pause, and a shaky exhale. And then everything in Adora’s world slams shut. She barely registers the soft thud of her cellphone hitting the carpeted floor as it slips from her grasp. She stands stock still as she desperately tries to hold in her inevitable breakdown. The tinny voice on the phone calls to her, questioning, “Ms. Greyskull? Are you still there?” 

Adora bends down, picks up her phone to answer back hoarsely, “Y-yes. I’m still here…” The voice on the other line begins to prattle on about next steps; a will reading, funeral costs, the formal process of dealing with a death. Adora does not absorb anything being said, not while the only thing reverberating through her mind is _She’s gone_ over and over and over again. It’s deafening.

* * *

Two days later and Adora has packed her entire life into the trunk of her subcompact car. Adora glances at the time showing on her phone, ignoring the text notifications from Glimmer and Bow, she notes that it’s still rather early. It will be about five hours worth of driving from Etheria City to Brightmoon Bay; she knows that this is going to be a long journey, physically and emotionally. 

With one last glimpse upwards to the window of her small apartment, Adora puts the key in the ignition and starts up the car. She looks into her rearview mirror and _by the heaven's_ she looks a mess. Puffy, red eyes stare right back at her, ponytail thrown up haphazardly. She releases a shaky sigh and lets her forehead rest on the steering wheel. A few silent tears slide down her cheeks and she allows them to drip onto her lap for a few seconds before she straightens up, smearing her tears off her face. Adora pulls out of the apartment complex parking garage and heads toward her old hometown.

  
  



	2. Stone's Throw From The Mill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Splendid yet is my hickory tree,  
> As the gorgeous leaves come fluttering down  
> Like flakes of gold; but soon I shall see  
> Only sightless heaps, all sere and brown. 
> 
> \- Ellen P. Allerton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first chapter's up!  
> So a few of the character's in this will be ooc but I'll have the majority of them true to their personalities from the show. I'm having a lot of fun writing this even though I'm not really an experienced fic writer but I'm hoping get more confident as I go along.  
> Also, I'm not knowledgable in construction or in woodworking, etc, so I'm researching while writing this fic. Apologies for any inaccuracies :/  
> I'm planning to have the second chapter up in a few weeks so if y'all liked this one, keep an eye out for the next!  
> Please enjoy, let me know what y'all think!  
> All mistakes are my own.

_ Hmm, not much has really changed around here, _ Adora muses mindlessly as she drives through the heart of Brightmoon Bay. Some new and mostly familiar buildings surround her as she slowly follows the route to her childhood home, and she thinks she even recognizes a couple faces as she passes them. Like true small-towners, a few gawk at her car as if they’ve never seen a car in their life. Adora, beginning to feel self-conscious, rushes onward.

A few turns and she’s started onto the dirt road that leads past the old rickety playground she used to romp around in; it seems to have been well-maintained over the years. Vague memories unbidden cycle through her mind: childish roars of laughter, giddy playfulness, silly pranks, and tilted smirks. Getting lost in thought, Adora hardly notices a particularly rough part of the road that causes the steering wheel to jerk a bit out of her grip. With a shake of her head, she refocuses on the task at hand. 

Eventually she’s winding through a grove of trees fondly dubbed The Whispering Woods. Adora remembers learning to climb the hickory trees, forever chasing after the feeling of being higher than the ground below her. The elation that would run through her when she would make it to the highest of branches, filling her with a sense of pride and freedom. She remembers when her childhood best friend had first taught her how to maneuver through the branches, of the numerous adventures they had, the moments shared between them within the trees…

* * *

_ “C’mon slowpoke!” Catra yells, as she peeks down through the leaves at Adora struggling to pull herself up.  _

_ “Hey asshole, not everyone is half-monkey like you!” Adora shouts back, chuckling. She manages to get a proper foothold and launches herself onto the branch closest to Catra. She smiles broadly at Catra, quite proud of herself at making it up there without asking for help. Catra smirks back and then looks down at her fingers, pretending to pick at her nails. _

_ “I’d like to think of myself as a very sleek and nimble cat, thank you very much,” Catra huffs haughtily. They stare at each other in silence for a second before they both explode in giggles. “What! Cats have nine-lives right? And they’re cute so I think that fits me just fine, you jerk.”  _

_ “Okay, furry.” Adora retorts. She laughs at the image conjured in her head, of Catra with cat ears and a tail.  _

_ “Fuck off,” Catra snaps a twig and throws it, bouncing it off of Adora’s forehead. Indignated, Adora makes to grab at Catra’s arm but the momentum throws her balance slightly and panic jolts through her as she begins to slip off of her branch. Catra quickly catches onto Adora’s shoulders and hoists her back into position. “Whoa, careful there, dumbass. I don’t wanna get in trouble if you break something.” _

_ Adora does not respond, too distracted and frightened by the fact she would have fell if Catra had not grabbed her. They are about thirty feet from the ground and that would have ended very, very badly. The reality of the dastardly consequences sink in and she feels herself spiralling. Catra notices from her expression that an anxiety attack is starting. _

_ “Hey, you’re fine. I wouldn’t have let you fall, I-I won’t let you get hurt. We can climb down now if you want, is that okay?” Catra reaches over and holds Adora’s hand. She runs her thumb over Adora’s knuckles for a couple minutes, the soft touch is grounding. Adora whimpers and shakes her head no.  _

_ “Alright, we’ll leave whenever you’re ready. I’ll help you down along the way.” Catra says softly. They stay up in the tree for 20 minutes, holding hands while Catra speaks gently about anything and Adora centers herself with the sound of her voice. Eventually they descend down the tree; Catra stays true to her word and helps Adora, coaching her through some of the trickier movements downward.  _

_ When they make it to the ground, Adora hugs Catra tightly. “Thank you, I’m sorry I ruined our climb because of a stupid panic attack.” She utters into Catra’s shoulder. Startled, Catra tenses but then melts into the hug and embraces her back loosely.  _

_ “You didn’t ruin anything and it was still fun,” She reassures, “Besides, we made it higher than we did last time! And you’re getting so much better at climbing down. I’m proud of you, princess.” Catra pulls away to smirk at Adora and then to look up at the tree, watching the leaves rustle softly. Adora lets her arms swing down from Catra’s shoulders and watches with her.  _

_ “Did you mean it? When you said you won’t let me get hurt?” She asks, innocently curious. Catra side-eyes her for a moment then glances back to the tree. She’s silent for a minute before she speaks in sincerity. _

_ “Yeah, I meant it. I won’t let you get hurt, that’s a promise.” She looks away from the tree and begins to head toward the trail that leads back to Adora’s home. Adora stands there watching her back as she gets farther away. _

_ “C’mon, dork. I’m hungry and it’s waaay past lunchtime. Last one to your place is a furry!” Catra yells when she notices Adora is not following behind her. Adora shouts an aggrieved, “Hey! No fair you have a headstart!” and runs to catch up with her. Catra sprints ahead, laughing like a maniac. _

* * *

Frustrated with herself for falling down memory lane once again, Adora turns her car radio up in hopes that the noise will shake her out of her reverie once and for all. Unfortunately, the further she travels into the grove, the shittier the radio signal is. Grumpily resigned to sit in silence, Adora tries to see if she recognizes any of the trees she had once scaled. Her mood sours further as she notices that some of the bigger trees have been cut down. 

_ What the hell? I thought this grove was protected by the county or some shit,  _ she thinks bitterly as she catches sight of heavy lumber machinery in a cordoned-off section beside the road. Obviously some things seemed to have changed in her small hometown.

All too soon she’s come upon the side-road that runs through her old neighborhood and straight to the house she grew up in. There are only six other residences on this street, graciously spaced away from each other and all fenced off with decently sized plots of land. She wonders if any of her old neighbors still reside on the quiet street. It’s almost dusk now anyways, she doubts if now would be the time she would see anybody up and about. 

During the will reading, Adora had already expected to have inherited the house from her grandmother Razz, but she was blindsided by the exact stipulations of her inheritance. Razz wanted Adora to stay in her childhood home for six months. No other real instructions with what to do during her stay, just to be there for six whole months. Of course, Adora obliged with what seems to have been Razz’s last dying wish. It was not that hard of a decision to make for her really; as a reasonably successful illustrator she could easily work remotely, and her only real attachments in Etheria City being her best friends Bow and Glimmer. She was also left with a rather generous amount of money that she has no idea what to do with. Adora reckoned she could use it for any possible renovations on the grounds. And then from there figure out whether or not she should sell the property.

_There it is,_ Adora reaches the end of the road and stops in front of the familiar, spaced dog-eared cut fence that encompasses the premises. She hops out and chuckles at the worn-out pink colored wood as she pulls the gate open. _I’m definitely repainting this when I get the chance_ , Adora thinks as a warm wave of nostalgia washes over her. She gets back into her car and proceeds towards the only place she’s ever truly called home.

* * *

The front porch steps creak and moan under her feet as Adora shifts her weight from one foot to the other, feeling out the wooden boards.  _ Yeah, these need to be changed out soon _ , she surmises when a slight snapping noise occurs as a particular plank bends unnaturally. She scurries over and unlocks the door, entering the house with a bated breath. 

Inside, everything looks exactly as it did when she still lived here. It is almost as if Adora has walked into a time capsule. She is greeted by the quaint lounge area; a three-cushioned loveseat couch and two other sofa chairs crowd around an intricately carved, cherrywood coffee table.  _ I haven’t seen this before,  _ a purple quilt is thrown over one of the chairs and she reaches out to feel the woven fabric. Adora picks it up to find that the other half of the quilt unfinished,  _ Razz must have started this recently _ . 

She walks through the living room and into the kitchen, looking over the stack of cleaned dishes and cooking appliances. It’s evident that the kitchen had been well-purposed over the years: an apron lays crumpled alongside a pile of folded old newspapers on the counter next to the sink, baking trays and a folded bag of flour on the counter across the way, numerous pots and pans stored on top of the stove. Adora opens the oven to find more baking trays.  _ Razz really did love to bake _ , Adora ruminates as she picks up a deep-dish pan. If she tries hard enough, she can almost smell her grandma’s staple peach cobbler in the air. 

Adora approaches the staircase that leads to the second floor and takes a cautious step, half-expecting the stairs to be in the same condition as the front porch. Fortunately, she finds that the wood is still strong enough to support her. An accumulation of dust rests on the rail and it collects on her fingers as she ascends. The door to Razz’s bedroom is slightly ajar and she pushes it open to glance in. The room is quite small, simply decorated with what one would expect an eighty-five year old woman would fancy. There is a vanity next to a neatly made bed: a few picture frames and an antique musical box occupy the surface of the vanity. Adora breath stutters as she catches the sight of the photographs, they are pictures of her and Razz. She quickly shuts the door, stepping away shakily as tears gather in her eyes.

_ No, Fuck. I can’t breakdown, I’ve got to keep going _ , Adora forces her tears back and steels herself. She runs a hand through her hair and inhales deeply. Exhaling, she turns to the room across from Razz’s and opens the door. Inside she finds that her childhood bedroom has been kept exactly the same as the rest of the house. 

She steps in and takes stock of the room: her twin bed pushed into a corner, the bay window with the handmade cushion seats Razz and Adora had made together one winter, the walls practically bare except for a few band posters and other miscellaneous postings, an armoire desk also custom made from when one of the bigger trees in The Whispering Woods had been struck down from a freak thunderstorm, a sliding mirror door slightly opened to reveal the closet. 

She heads to the armoire and folds it open, not expecting to find anything. But she does. On the writing surface are colored post-it notes, the writing on them still legible after ten years. The bulletpoints on the post-it notes are an organization of her younger self’s goals and intent. Adora is struck with a memory of leaving them there the night she left and her heart begins to feel too heavy inside of her chest.

* * *

When Adora moved out, she took only her clothes and some money that she had saved from working at the local diner the summers before and after high school ended. At eighteen, her dream was to draw, to create art that was authentically hers and hers alone. Art that could speak her truth for her, that told stories left unspoken. Sure, at the time she was naturally gifted, always receiving compliments from Razz and encouragement from Catra when she allowed them to see her sketches and watercolor paintings, but Adora knew that if she wanted to be taken seriously in that world, she would have to truly apply herself. Well, apply to art schools. She applied to art colleges across the nation and was accepted at none but one small college in Etheria City.

Adora’s mistake was that she did not tell anyone about her plans. Not any of her friends, not Catra, and most importantly not Razz. Too caught up in her aspirations and anxiety, she worked herself to the bone to make her dream a reality. Thus, leading her to pull away from her interpersonal relationships in order to focus. She and Razz began to have petty arguments over nothing, tensions rising in their once peaceful home. Even more so, Catra retaliated in congruence with Adora’s behavior. Pulling so far away, it was like they had not been best friends at all. 

Incapable of just  _ communicating _ for fear of jinxing herself, Adora allowed this all to happen. The last straw was when she came home to find Razz had opened her acceptance letter from the college in Etheria City.

_ “Adora, I don’t even know what to say to you…” Razz said sadly, “When were you going to tell me? You know I support you in everything that you do. But Etheria City is so far away, I don’t think this is a good idea. What about the schools near here?” _

_ That was what Adora had feared her grandmother would say. She picked up and folded the letter, her grip shaking with anxiety and emotion. Razz’s words irrationally morphing into the insecurities always at the forefront of her mind: of unworthiness, fear of being a failure, of being stuck.  _

_ “This is what I’ve been working so hard for, this is all I want. So please, if you love me you’ll let me go. There’s nothing here for me to stay for. Please.” Adora says firmly, if not unfairly to Razz’s feelings and concerns. _

_ “What about Catra? What about me? I’m getting older and I can’t watch over the grove without you,” Razz says cryptically, her eyes narrowing on Adora, “Your mother would be disappointed.” _

_ Adora stiffens at the mention of her estranged and past mother.  _

_ “Mara left us, left me here, and died doing whatever the fuck she thought was noble. But really, I’m starting to think she just couldn’t deal with you and your weird bullshit. Did you ever think about that?” Adora spits out meanly, tears imminent in her voice. She cannot have this conversation any longer. She makes her decision then to pack up and leave. _

_ In her room, she glosses over the post-it notes on her airmore and finds her resolve scrawled onto the square-shaped papers. As she walks past Razz sitting in the living room and out of the house, Adora pauses briefly to look back at her grandmother, at the woman who raised her, and finds her with her head in her hands sniffling softly. Adora’s heart shatters and she whispers, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, but I have to do this,” She turns back to the open door, to the world before her, “I’ll call you sometime soon.” _

She didn’t.

That was such a miserable year. Adora spent a few days in her old car and another in a hostel on the edge of Etheria City, waiting for summer to end and the semester at the college to start. Having already applied for dorms and approved for financial aid, she was paired with a decidedly unsavory roommate, who made it explicitly clear that they did not want to be her friend. Adora struggled her way through her studies that first year, but she survived. Her hard work ethic and strive for perfection pulling through for her in the end. 

In her second year at the college, the second and third semester went off without a hitch and she even managed to make a few friends. Adora’s roommate for that year, now one of her best friends, Bow, welcomed her with open arms and introduced her to Glimmer. The three of them, at the insistence of Bow, formed The Best Friends’ Squad. By the end of the next year they were as thick as thieves. Adora viewed them as family.

With her final school year encroaching upon her, Adora made the decision to stick with a career path in illustration. That was where she felt she could shine best and she was right. After graduation, she nabbed an entry level job at a reputable illustration agency. While working her way up, she refined her portfolio and eventually pitched herself as an artist to her higher-ups. Impressed with her skill and boldness, she was given the opportunity to illustrate for an upcoming children’s storybook series titled, ‘She-Ra, Warrior Princess!’, thus fulfilling her dreams. From there, it was a snowball effect of further successful illustration projects. 

* * *

Acting on the influence of nostalgia, Adora begins to filter through her belongings in her room. Not finding much more than random items, she remembers that she has a few boxes stored somewhere in the room.  _ Oh, the closet! _

A plume of dust erupts straight into Adora’s face as she wrestles open the first of the cardboard boxes from the closet of her bedroom. After sputtering and waving at her face, she peers into the box in front of her and finds that it’s filled to the brim with mementos from her youth: sketchpads that she did not bring with her the night she left, toys that she and Catra played with till they outgrew them, a weathered friendship bracelet, pressed leaves from their favorite trees they scaled.

_ I wonder what she’s up to now, I doubt she’s still here in Brightmoon _ , Adora ponders as she picks up the friendship bracelet, rubbing along the woven strings. She puts it back and continues to inspect the other boxes. Truthfully and a bit shamefully, she has not thought of Catra since their last confrontation so many years ago. Adora refuses to unrepress that specific event. Being back in her old hometown may bring up her past to the forefront of her mind, but she is  **not** going to examine any of her unresolved feelings for her ex-best friend. Nope.

As the moon begins to creep through the windows, all of the day’s travelling and emotional turbulence finally takes its toll on Adora. She goes out to her car to bring in luggage. She decides to sleep on one of the reclining sofa chairs in the living room, too weary to climb back up the stairs.

On her second day in Brightmoon Bay, Adora delves into inspecting the exterior of the house further and cleaning out the front yard. The house itself is more of a full-scribe cabin, built from the local red cedar trees many decades ago. Adora does not quite remember the story behind how Razz came to own this property, something about a promise to preserve and oversee the part of The Whispering Woods that connects to the land. A promise to who and to preserve what exactly, Adora could not say. 

Razz had a reputation for being a bit of an oddball; her prophetic way of speaking and mischievous meddling in other people’s business was a common occurrence in her heyday. In such a small town, most found it endearing while some found her to be an annoyance. It rubbed Adora the wrong way whenever such people would judge Razz for her eccentricity. A choking guilt arises in Adora when she reminds herself of her last words to Razz.

During her search on the property, Adora finds multiple areas that need serious renovation: some of the wood on the left side of the house is bent outwards from being possibly water-logged, a few parts of the fence perimetered around the land are broken or missing, the roofing looks a bit eroded, and most importantly the front porch looks like it will not withstand Adora taking one more step upon it.

A list of general building materials and daily necessities in hand, Adora heads to the center of town.  _ Nice to see it’s not so busy today, hopefully it’s the same at the mart _ , she thinks as she makes her way through. Surprisingly, she finds that the local grocery store has been upgraded into a warehouse supermarket; significantly larger and filled with more resources than Adora ever remembered seeing in the once modest market.

Within the next fifteen minutes, Adora’s cart is half-full of microwaveable dinners and other fast snacks that should last her a couple weeks. She’s never been the most confident cook and without Glimmer to badger her about her preference for junk food, she decides to indulge for once. As a treat. 

She’s not paying attention, strolling through an aisle that seems to be for spices and condiments, when something rams into the back of her legs. Adora buckles a bit and yelps, she whirls around in a bewildered state of panic. Finding nothing at eye-level in the moment, she darts her eyes lower and finds a pair of discernable amber eyes belonging to an unrecognizable person, staring up at her. Well, a young child to be exact. A young child who seems to have ran straight into the back of Adora’s legs and is now about to start crying. 

_ Uhhhhh, what the fuck what the fuck, shit, what do I do?! _ , Adora flusters and freezes while the kid begins to audibly sob. Before she gets the chance to do anything, she sees in her peripheral vision that a large shape is barreling towards her and the child. In the blink of an eye, a very robust woman with short white hair is in front of Adora, bending down to scoop the child into her arms. 

“Oh, it’s okay! Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. Tia ‘Pia’s gotcha,” the woman soothes. The child squirms their way into the shoulder of the huge woman, seemingly both distraught and shy, as Adora bafflingly watches the scene before her. The woman seems to finally take notice of their audience and smiles apologetically to Adora, as she gently rubs the child’s back.

“I’m so sorry about that, miss. I barely put them down for a second and whoosh! This little munchkin was off like a light!” she says sheepishly once the child has stopped crying. They keep their face tucked for a moment before peeking out to look at Adora, eyes wet and staring widely. 

There is something intimately recognizable about the way they look up at Adora; it makes her soften from her initial confusion, her mouth curving slightly to smile, and she waves her fingers towards the child. The child, intrigued, turns their way more directly at Adora and giggles when she waggles her fingers again. 

“It’s okay, I was just startled and-” Adora begins to say when…

“Scorpia! There you guys are! Jesus, I was freaking out! Where the hell is my kid?” an all too familiar voice anxiously calls out, effectively cutting Adora off. Another person walks briskly up the aisle towards them. The little one immediately squiggles and reaches their arms out toward the woman, making grabby hands and exclaims loudly, “Mami!”

The woman approaches with her arms stretched out to receive the child and snuggles them into her arms. She raises her head and mismatched eyes meet Adora’s.

_ Oh. Oh, no. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, oh. cliffhanger


End file.
